


Stop the world

by Mis_Shapes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Missed Chances, No idea how to tag honestly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 10:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16554416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mis_Shapes/pseuds/Mis_Shapes
Summary: Theon drifts in and out of Sansa life throughout teenage years and young adult. Always the charmer and with a fair amount of chemistry, but never the sensible choice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is not at all well polished, but I want to be able to write things again and it seems most sensible to just get something out there at this stage!

To say the day would change Sansa’s life would be a grave exaggeration and yet it would not be a falsity to claim that it would be significant enough to be etched in her mind for all eternity. Though perhaps this was due to what some might consider to be her overly romantic disposition.

The cramped conditions of the bus made for just the exact situation Sansa loathed. Her bag came uncomfortably close to the old woman who sat in the seat beside which she stood’s face. She tensed and cringed as a boy squeezed past her in the aisle.

Public transport does have a horrendous habit of putting one in these positions that wouldn’t normally be tolerated.

Heart racing, she clutched the satchel to her and flashed the woman a meek and apologetic smile that she hoped conveyed her sentiments that this was indeed one of those shitty journeys one had come to expect during rush hour and weren’t some people careless in their barging. Thankfully, Sansa had the appearances and demeanour that made this possible. The woman’s harshly lip pencilled smile was weak and exasperated but showed no animosity towards her. The guy stood by her had no such luck and was getting tutted at left right and centre. His turn for her smile, sympathetic.

It was this amicable moment that led her to spot the seat at the back of the bus. The crowd of people between her and the seat left her wondering why no one was going for this thing of beauty, but she could hardly believe her luck.

Wiggling past bags of shopping and even a dog, who of course merited a moment of her attention, her final destination was within her sights when she spied the occupant of said seat.

A bag.

Of course.

A deep sigh escaped her.                       

“Hey, your Robb Stark’s little sister, right?”

Owner of said bag. An impossibly casual draped girl, one foot drawn up onto the back of the seat in front. Wrist resting elegantly on knee.

A hesitant nod and polite smile. “Yes, that’s… right.” Cringe.

Her new acquaintance lent back over her seat to tug headphones from the ear of the friend set behind her.

“A Starkling.”

To consider her as elegant would be to leave an adequate description of the god behind her lacking. Sansa felt her heart flutter and miss a beat.

It was a ridiculous feeling to have for he was in no way her type. She was not the kind of girl to swoon over this boy.

“Hey,” he grinned. Needing to further explanation than the red of her hair. “Arya?” A splendidly deep voice.

“…Sansa.”

The crooked smirk and wink told her he most certainly did already know which sister he was faced with.

“Theon. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

It’s one thing for the brain to register these purposeful ploys and quite another to have the body relay these messages elsewhere, and so when he removed the bag of who she came to know as ‘Kyra’ and indicated for her to sit in the free seat she sat and turned into a bumbling blushing mess.

The following ten minutes she spent answering questions about Robb, the ever-popular Stark sibling, in university now and away from home. Nothing felt right without him. And then on to their cousin Jon, a conversation which prompted numerous eye rolls from Theon despite his friends’ intrigue.

Theon’s hand reaching to take the book from her hand caught her off guard. On pure reflex she unsuccessfully made to snatch it back.

“Whoa!” He laughed. “You’re feistier than I’d pegged you to be.”

Sansa felt the heat creep up her neck and onto pale freckled cheeks. It was an ailment suffered by the majority of her siblings.

“You have little experience of me. How would you know?” She shot back, heart sinking as she quickly regretted the outburst, but rather than be offended he smiled with affection and understanding.

His lips pursed while stormy eyes flicked over the cover and blurb.

Anxious of his reaction she watched intently him pushing long dark hair behind his ear. The long hair intrigued her, as did the nose piercing. Something about the unfamiliar, drawn in by the unusual and unexpected. Somehow exotic in her life where those around her were prone to societal norms. The bravery of being different.

It struck her that here she was, completely ordinary and hoping for the attentions and friendship of someone who was very much not. Feeling utterly resigned to him finding her dull she glanced out of the window to distract herself, an act in pretending his opinions meant very little to her.

An eyebrow rose. “How do your parents feel about you reading his filth?”

“It’s not-“ she choked a little during the protest.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” Theon laughed, passing the book back, the smell of leather from his jacket passing with him. “The Atonement guy, right?”

“…yes.”

He smirked straight at her, eyes glittering, knowing full well she had expected him to know little of the book or author. “Got anyone to go with yet?”

“I, uh... sorry? Oh! The film, you mean?”

“Yeah, the film.”

“Sorry, I’m such an idiot.” Sansa smiled and lowered her eyes, playing a little with the cover of the book. Her finger trailed lightly over the raised glossy lettering of the title. “No… Not yet.”

“How about you hit me up if you’re still on the market when the time comes?”

With that bombshell he reached other the person sat beside him to ring the bell, but instead of standing to get off the bus when it stopped he watched her expectantly until eventually she came to realise that this was infact her own stop.

He’d remembered where Robb and Jon got off.

“Oh shit! Thank you.” Leaping up, she tugged at her skirt to straighten it back out from the journey. The last thing she needed was accidentally flashing at this point.

“No worries.”

It was only halfway to the front of the bus when the thought struck her. “I don’t have your number though.”

He simply inclined his head towards where her hand clutched the book, dragging the knuckle of his forefinger along his lip to part conceal the grin.

Immediately following stepping down onto the pavement and thanking the driver she raced to read what had been written inside the cover with the most perfect handwriting. Just in time to see his winking face pass her by.

_Looking forward to hearing from hearing from you_. And following that his number.

***

Sansa felt as though she were walking on air walking into her house and hanging up her bag.

Paused to glance at herself in the hallway mirror she looked over herself in fear that perhaps her make up might be smudged or something of that ilk and caught herself smiling. Pulling her hair from the bun which held it back she let it cascade over her shoulders and forked her fingers through the locks to give it a shake.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” teased Arya playfully, thundering down the stairs and giving her a little poke in the side.

“Oi! Arya!” She grumbled, glowering at her sister. “Mum!... You are _so_ annoying. Grow up.”

“Stop bickering already and start getting ready.” Her mother called back from the kitchen, exasperated and declining to infer or investigate in what was going on. “Honestly, you two, you’ve only just gotten through the door!”

“Must we really go straight back out?”

“Yes. It’s a long drive and you know the traffic gets bad at this time. We don’t want to be late. Your dads been waiting so long for this. EVERYONE needs to be on their best behaviours… Arya, are you listening?”

“Me?! What about _Rickon_.” Incredulous with the implied accusation.

“Rickon is much younger than you, I expect better from you.”

Sansa snorted and muttered under her breath, “more fool you.” She was met with a sharp tug of her hair. “Arya! MUM!”

It was just like that that Sansa’s excellent mood was dragged from her and by the end of the three-hour journey in the people carrier with her three younger siblings she had almost forgotten her encounter with Theon Greyjoy.

***

The food at the dinner was decent enough and at least she had the palate to enjoy such a meal, the lemon tart especially unlike the majority of the other Starks, including Robb ‘it’s-not-a-real-desert-unless-it’s-chocolate’ sat beside her and her father. And she enjoyed wearing the pretty teal dress she and her mum had eventually agreed upon. Only… such events also seemed to leave her feeling a little… lonely. She hated to admit it but trying to be the good child amongst the chaos of the younger ones, helping to keep them in line, and watching as everyone spoke to her older brother and cousin left her low and if she was honest, jealous.

Perhaps that was why Joffrey had the effect on her that he did. That’s what she’d tell herself in adulthood at least to mitigate the regret.

Teenage foolery and low self-esteem.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Starks and Baratheons have dinner. Sansa makes a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry this took longer than I'd intended. This isn't beta'd and I could do with one so if you'd find it in your heart let me know! ;)

“Sansa, dear,” Cersei smiled as she waited for Sansa’s attention, “what are your plans for after you’ve finished school?”

 Caught eating her second of the complimentary mint chocolates that came with the bill at the end of the meal, Sansa hurriedly finished the bite, overly conscientious of speaking with her mouth full.

 _Dance_. She longed to say, but the prospect was far too daunting. Sansa would try to fool herself in this instance that she had been put on the spot unexpectedly and that she simply cared a little too much of Cersei’s opinion of her.

The truth was she dared tell no one but Jeyne.

It didn’t help of course that this woman was something of an icon. She dreamt of a life in which she was as well put together. As well respected. Not dismissed.

“I’m planning to apply to literature.” Even this caused some level of anxiety and the thought came to her that she should be trying to engage further.

“Where will you apply to?”

“I’m not sure…” Sansa felt a lump in her throat and took a sip of her drink, determined to think of a question ask so as to not come across rude and inconsiderate. “How about Joffrey…? That’s if he plans to go to University of course.” Her face paled. “Not everyone decides to go after all…  It seems at the moment a lot of money to not be any better off… finding a job and everything.”

The Baratheon’s wouldn’t care for the cost and the thought crossed her mind that they would have enough contacts to find their son a job in the area of his choosing no matter what. The embodiment of the saying ‘it’s not what you know, it’s who you know’.

Cersei smiles changed to that of condescension, something Sansa desperately wanted to change. Her lips sipped from the coffee cup in her hands, one of those people that does every single thing elegantly, her lipstick perfectly intact.

“Joff has already applied, haven’t you darling?” Her hand rested gently on her eldest son’s shoulder to bring him back to the room.

Joffrey looked up from his phone. “Hmm?”

“I was just telling Sansa about your applications. She hasn’t decided where to apply to yet.”

“Yes well, I had to sort out everything early, of course.”

Sansa watched him quizzically, waiting, hoping, for him to elaborate, but help came from another source.

Sat next to Joffrey, Robb pulled a funny face, arching his brows. The Starks had their own ways of communication and the expression and tone of voice had her struggling to contain a grin; he’d clearly spent a lot of time listening to this.

“Oxbridge applications.”

“Ah,” she nodded, “it all seems a very complicated process.”

To her right she felt rather than saw or heard Arya chuckle.

“It’s to make sure you don’t even bother applying!”

“Arya!” Sansa’s gut reaction was to strike at her sister with a keen elbow to the side.

“Arya!” Her mother quickly scolded, “And Sansa, please, I expect better of you.”

“She started it!”

“She started it!” Mocked Arya.

“Well, actually, that is kind of the point,” Jon cleared his throat, encouraged on by his family’s attention, eyes fixated on his beer, “it puts off kids from backgrounds where it isn’t the norm to go. Unless you have someone coaching you through the process, its unlikely to even attempt it… Elitist bullshit.”

Robb, who had known where this was going concealed his amusement with the palm of his hand to his face while the rest of the table fell into uncomfortable silence. Sansa was aware of her mother having hushed words with their father.

“Jon…” Ned began his caution with very little conviction, but it was unnecessary. Jon threw up his hands and pushed his chair back from the table. Standing and throwing his napkin onto the plate in front, he stalked off towards the door.

Catelyn, her mother, tutted and muttered disapprovingly to Cersei, “smoking, dirty habit. Mine know better.”

 

***

 

Stood outside the restaurant on the pavement and waiting for her father to bring the car round, Sansa stood in awkward silence beside Joffrey 

“Sorry,” She began hesitantly, “about Jon. He can be like that sometimes.”

“Hmmm?” Joffrey dragged his eyes up from the phone screen and scowled as he took in what she was saying. “Yes, well, people will be like that when they feel like they have something to prove.”  
  
“I suppose…,” Sansa watched as her breath dissipated in front of her under the light of the street lamps and wetted her lips nervously.

“Your number,” He prompted while holding his phone out under her nose.

“…Oh! Right!” Her unfamiliarity with the type of phone and her nerves led to an excruciating couple of minutes while she attempted to add herself to his phonebook. “I think I’ve managed it.”

His hand lingered on hers as she passed it back.

“I like you. We should see each other again without family around,” he told her, with a great deal of scorn laid over the word family and, in that moment, despite the usual pride she felt for family, she couldn’t help but agree with his annoyance.

Sansa smiled shyly, pushed her hair back behind her ears, and lowered her eyes. She was only a push from shuffling her feet. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” He tipped her head back up to him with a hand below her chin and planted a kiss on her lips.

Joffrey had taken her by surprise. It seemed unusual for her peers to be quite so honestly forward in this manner. Forward wasn’t quite the right word for it as many she knew left little to the imagination, but rarely did it come across that simple. Almost adult and grown up like. Perhaps that was what was drawing her in, a promise of something that was straight forward at its core.

“Sansa!!” Robb shouting from the car, she had completely missed the car driving past them and pulling up.

“Sorry, it’s best I don’t give him the opportunity to come over here, I best get off. Good bye.”

“I’ll see you soon, Sansa.”

His smile was ever so charming, and his hair such a brilliant golden. A true prince, and with ambitions and plans for his life. The prospect was thrilling. He was the kind of boy she’d hoped to meet. Somehow something felt missing, but she wasn’t going to let herself dwell on that.

“What were you doing with him?” Grumbled Jon from the other side of Robb in the back of the car.

“It’s really none of your business.”

“I’ll make it my business if you don’t keep away from that little prick.”

“He’s really not that bad."

“’Not that bad’ isn’t exactly a sparkling endorsement Sans,” Robb chimed in.

Sansa frowned at the pair of them. “Don’t tell me you’re taking his side!”

“I’m not taking his side, it’s our side. I couldn’t agree more. Slimey git!”

“Slimey git,” chuckled Rickon from the seats in front.

Their mother gasped, “Rickon!” But everyone else concentrated on controlling their smiles.

 

***

 

Sansa sat at her dressing table, removing her earrings, necklace and bracelet, setting them down with almost ritual like precision. She took the hair grips from her hair and shook out the style, feeling the freedom, and stared into the mirror as she passed the brush through her locks.

In the mirrors reflection she caught the book sat on her bed and grinned, nipping her lower lip gently. How tempting it was to immediately seize the book to go over those perfect letters once more.

Practicing her best restraint, she continued with the task at hand, but now every pass over her lips as she removed the colour, every brush over her skin as she let the dress fall from her and replaced it with a nightdress, felt like an echo of another’s promised touch.

Slipping under the cool covers of her bed, Sansa took her phone from her night stand and hesitantly keyed in the numbers from the book.

Her thumb hovered over the call button for quite some time as she worked up the nerve. Heart beating at such a speed it threatened to break from her chest.

Closing her eyes, daring not to look, eventually she took the plunge and found herself holding her breath as she waited for the answer.

“Hello?” Theon’s voice called over incredibly loud music. Shouts from those around him making the assumption a girl was on the other end of the call.

“…Hi.”

“Hello there, I thought you’d never call,” Sansa could her the smile in his voice and it thrilled her. There was an affection towards her she hadn’t heard from Joff. “Hold on, I’m going to find somewhere quieter… somewhere more private.”

Her chest felt tight. She’d be lying if she said the impulse wasn’t there to hang up.

“I’ve been hoping you’d call.” A door closed and the music around him became muted. “Hey, you still there?”

“Yes, sorry, I’m just… I wasn’t sure if you were just being polite. With your message and everything.”

A chuckle. He was laughing at her.

“Maybe, but not in the way you were thinking.”

“Oh,” Sansa breathed, relieved that he couldn’t see the blush she could feel in the heat of her cheeks.

“Where are you?”

“Bed…” She winced at how that could come across.

“I see… Sansa, you’re making this rather difficult for be not to push this line of conversation further and undo all my efforts of coming across like a well-mannered young man.”

A chortle escaped her.

“Oi!” The noise of him smirking came down the line. “… listen, you can probably tell, but I’m out at the moment and I’m staying at a mate’s. Can I call you tomorrow night?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Great, tomorrow it is.”

“Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Sansa laid back in the bed, a grin from ear to ear, and fought to ignore the tingles throughout her body just thinking about him brought. But try as she might to fight the impulse, the mere sensation of the thin fabric of her nightie drove her hand to follow it down between her legs.


End file.
